


last night i dreamed of you

by ObscureReference



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, Gen, M/M, Major Character Injury, Time Loop, Time Travel Fix-It, hinted romance - Freeform, very light romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: Odin, Selena, and Laslow die again. And again. And again.They don't remember this.--“What are you talking about?”Niles’s scowl deepened. “We don’t have time to play around here,partner.Time is of the essence. So tell me straight. What kind of deal did the three of you make? Was it with another dragon?”Odin’s heart skipped several beats.





	last night i dreamed of you

**Author's Note:**

> Is this my first fic I've posted since coming to Japan? It sure is! And it's been sitting on my computer for a while now. I'm glad to finally post it!
> 
> The romance here is pretty light and mostly hinted, but I tagged the ships anyway in case anyone was interested (or uninterested in this fic based on those hints). Nothing is explicit, but a crush or light flirting is present here and there, fyi.
> 
> Be warned there are major, deathly injuries described in this too! It's not a gore fest, but, you know. People get badly hurt. They bleed. They die. And then they come back. So be warned!
> 
> I did a lot of listening to the Kagerou Project's _Kagerou Days"_ and _"Additional Memory"_ while writing this. Also a lot of old Homestuck music, lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Odin stepped back from the inventory with satisfaction. As far as weapons went, they were as stocked up as they could be. Especially for being all but trapped in Valla for the time being. No time to order more supplies from other vendors when your whole army had jumped through a bottomless canyon in order to fight a dragon. They could have always used a little more excess, but there wasn’t time for that now. It didn’t really matter in the long run anyway.

One way or another, everything would be over by tomorrow. Odin was sure of it.

He wished he had more time to name the extra staves and swords that could possibly be used in the next day or so, but he’d already devoted a lot of his inventory stocking time to naming the weapons near the top of the stacks—the ones he knew for sure would be utilized. He just had to rely on the innate quality of the weapons rather than on their spiritual strength this time around.

Odin’s hand brushed over one last spear. He reached for his mental list of weapon names. He was running short on pre-determined names, but Odin’s creativity had never failed him yet.

“Hm.”

The wood was nice and smooth. The spear had a nice curvature to its blade. Standard issue, but still good. Odin tapped his finger lightly against its pointed tip.

“Slayer of Draconic Beings,” he ultimately decided. The spear didn’t really have any material properties that would help against dragons, but maybe the new name would help with that somewhat.

He considered sticking around the tent for a few minutes longer to work off more of his nervous energy, but ultimately the bright rays of sunlight shining through the tent opening reminded him that it was still morning and there were other tasks to be accomplished soon.

It was a good thing he quit when he did, he decided moments later, as he stepped out of the tent and noticed Niles heading his way in the same breath.

“Niles!” Odin greeted warmly. “How goes the tasks our liege lord has laid before us this fine morning?”

The words were out of his mouth before he registered the serious look on Niles’s face. Odin’s own grin dropped. The nervous energy that had been bubbling inside him for the battle to come suddenly solidified into a cold rod of fear along his spine.

“What’s wrong?” Odin asked as Niles approached. “Is Lord Leo—"

Niles pushed him back into the tent.

“Lord Leo is fine,” Niles said gruffly. His face was serious and unreadable. “Get in here.”

Odin let himself be corralled. He backed up until his hip nudged the sword rack. With Niles standing in the tent opening, blocking the sunlight, the tent suddenly seemed a bit darker than before.

“What’s wrong, friend?” Odin asked again. “If it’s not Lord Leo, then…”

He trailed off meaningfully. Niles continued to stare seriously without saying a word.

“Uh, Niles?”

They probably weren’t under attack. Niles would have said so by now if they were. But if it wasn’t that and it wasn’t Lord Leo, Odin had no idea what Niles was up to.

He furrowed his brow skeptically. “Is everything alright?”

For a moment he thought Niles still wasn’t going to answer and Odin was going to have to sneak out of the tent somehow to grab a healer. Perhaps Niles had hit his head somewhere.

Then:

“What deal did you make?” Niles growled.

Odin blinked. “Excuse me?”

Suddenly Niles was closer than before, boxing Odin in against the shelves. His face was close enough that their noses were nearly touching. Admittedly, Odin had imagined this kind of scenario before—Niles pushing him up against a wall somewhere in a dark corner, barely any space between them—but certainly never with Niles wearing that kind of expression.

“You heard me,” Niles said lowly, barely giving Odin any space to wriggle away if he wanted. “What kind of deal did you make?”

Odin… still had no idea what Niles was talking about.

“What are you talking about?”

Niles’s scowl deepened. “We don’t have time to play around here, _partner_. Time is of the essence. So tell me straight. What kind of deal did the three of you make? Was it with another dragon?”

Odin’s heart skipped several beats. There was only one dragon in Valla—only one that Odin knew about, anyway—but the fact Niles was asking _Odin_ about dragons meant he was closer to the truth than Odin wanted him to be. The thought filled Odin with a fresh sense of dread. On top of that, Niles spat the word “partner” like it was poison, and Odin didn’t like that one bit either.

Odin barely kept himself from choking on air. “Another dragon? I admire your enthusiasm, my friend, but let’s keep our sights on the enemy nearly within our grasp first.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

Niles’s tone held no room for nonsense. Odin closed his mouth quickly. His teeth clicked.

“Tell me truthfully, Odin,” Niles said. His jaw looked tense. “How are you doing this?”

Odin breathed out through his nose. Niles was still boxing him in, and their arrangement was becoming less and less desirable by the second.

“I’m telling you honestly,” he said, suddenly exasperated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Niles studied Odin. Hard.

“Maybe,” Niles allowed after a moment. His good eye still narrowed. “But you’ve done something.”

Odin shook his head. “You’re making no sense. I thought we put those suspicions behind us anyway.” He looked toward the open tent flap. “Now’s not really the time, alright? Can this wait? I still have to report to Lord Leo about our inventory—"

“No.”

Odin stopped trying to duck past Niles’s outstretched arm. He waited for Niles to say something more.

After a brief yet unenjoyable staring contest, Niles said, “What, did you three sell your souls or something?”

The thought was absurd, but the words rolled off Niles’s tongue like he was really considering them.

Odin forced himself to sigh and feign nonchalance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice low and serious. His whole body was a tightly coiled spring. Niles was so close, and it felt like they were teetering on the edge of something Odin didn’t quite like. “But you should let go of me.”

Niles lifted his chin. “And if I say no?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Truthfully, Odin had no idea what he’d do if Niles didn’t let him go. But as much as he liked Niles, he didn’t plan on sitting idly while Niles harassed him either. He made sure his voice reflected that.

A very tense beat of silence passed between them. Odin anxiously waited for what Niles would do.

Eventually, Niles straightened up and took a step back. It wasn’t a very big step, but it was enough for Odin to squeeze past him and make a beeline for the tent flap. In a childish, momentary lapse of judgement, Odin made sure their shoulders knocked together on the way out too.

Walking into the sunlight felt like a whole new world. He could still feel Niles’s eyes on his back when he walked out, so Odin made sure to swiftly duck between a few more tents and fall out of sight before he allowed himself to slow.

He brushed past several fellow soldiers who either nodded at him or avoided him entirely, clearly having picked up on his visible sour mood. Agitation and confusion prickled under Odin’s skin.

He had no idea what Niles had been talking about just now if not for the fact Odin, Selena, and Laslow had all come from another world. Niles’s accusations had been vague enough that it was hard to tell. But that was the one secret Odin had promised not to let slip, and he wasn’t going to let it go so easily. Not even to an upset friend. Not unless Niles used his words and explained what in the world he was talking about.

And if it wasn’t about that, Odin had no idea what Niles had meant. Odin certainly hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary as of late, but it hadn’t sounded like Niles was making things up out of the blue either. Just being purposely vague and acting like Odin knew what he was talking about already. Or hoping Odin would slip up about something, maybe. In any case, it was frustrating and not at all how Odin wanted to start out the day that would determine the fate of several kingdoms. This was a problem he wanted to push back if he could.

Even so, Odin couldn’t stop thinking about what Niles had been talking about. About the look on he wore when he looked at Odin. It made Odin’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Odin!”

Odin lifted his head at the sound of Leo’s voice. Leo was several paces away and briskly walking in Odin’s direction. Odin wondered if he had missed Leo’s call the first time around.

He remembered the inventory he was now late to report on and tried to force Niles out of his mind for the moment.

“Lord Leo!” Odin greeted, forcing some cheer into his voice. “By my aching blood! You have good timing. About that inventory—”

“About what?” Leo stopped short. He shook his head. “Nevermind that. Listen, I have an order regarding us infiltrating the castle later today.”

“Anything,” Odin said.

Leo closed his eyes briefly, and Odin wondered what he was thinking about.

When he opened them again, Leo said, “I need you to stick close to me and Niles during any battles today.”

Odin couldn’t help it. His face fell.

It wasn’t a strange order. It wasn’t even one that Odin would necessary consider an _order_ most of the time. He usually tried to stick close to Leo when he knew his lord was in battle with him anyway. It was Odin’s job to protect Leo, after all. On top of that, Odin and Niles usually made a decent team. Odin didn’t mind going off on his own during the rare occasions he couldn’t pick his usual partners. But most of the time he stuck with Niles and Leo anyway.

He still didn’t have a problem sticking close to Leo now. Niles, on the other hand…

Well, Niles’s accusations just now weren’t enough for Odin to want to abandon him on the battlefield entirely. He certainly didn’t want Niles _hurt_. But the thought of sticking close to Niles when Odin had just finished escaping him filled him with displeasure.

So Odin’s face fell at Leo’s order, and he knew Leo saw as much.

“Something wrong?” Leo asked.

“Ah, no.” Odin winced. He sounded unconvincing to his own ears. “That is to say… Ah.”

Leo sighed heavily as though he knew something Odin didn’t. That piqued Odin’s interest more than his disappointment did.

“Is something wrong, Lord Leo?” Odin asked.

“No,” Leo said. “Please, whatever Niles did… Just ignore that for now. I need you to promise you’ll stick close to Niles and I when the fighting starts.”

Odin bit the inside of his cheek. It was probably for the best anyway. “If Niles can manage it, so can I.”

“I’m certain Niles will manage himself just fine,” Leo said flatly. There was still something there. Something Odin couldn’t quite read.

“I don’t know…”

Odin pulled another face, remembering too late that he shouldn’t have been acting so uncouthly in front of his lord. Or that he maybe shouldn’t have been complaining about Niles to Leo just yet when Odin didn’t know what the problem was anyway. Besides, they were adults. They could work this out for themselves without Leo’s intervention.

Still, he couldn’t help but add, “I think Niles made it pretty clear about where his opinions in me lay this morning.”

Which definitely stung more than Odin wanted to admit. He’d thought he and Niles gotten along pretty well the past few years. He thought Niles had finished digging into his past. He’d thought…

Looking mildly frustrated, Leo smoothed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “Then just stick by _me_ , alright? That’s an order. As for Niles…” Leo hesitated. “He… means well.”

That was probably true. For Leo, anyway.

“Alright,” Odin said. He had no plans to leave Leo vulnerable during today’s battle. He wouldn’t have planned on it even if Leo hadn’t been his lord. Nor did he want to fight Leo on this decision any longer. “Consider it done, Lord Leo.”

Leo nodded, looking mildly sated. “Good.”

Odin gave him a quick glance over. Leo’s lips were pressed tightly together when he wasn’t speaking, likely from stress. They were on the verge of something awful and spectacular, and Odin had focused too much on his own worries this morning. Whatever Odin was feeling, Leo must have been feeling twice over. He was in charge of so much more.

“What else can I do for you?” Odin asked. “Inventory has been taken care of, and nothing seems amiss. I even took the liberty of naming most of them for our upcoming battle!”

Leo’s smile was strained but present.

“Thank you, Odin,” Leo said.

“Of course!” Odin beamed back. “What else can I do to prepare? Shall I scout the perimeter of the castle? Help determine battle formation? Prepare a series of soothing activities to calm your nerves?”

Leo sighed again—this time thankfully more fond than exasperated.

“Just.” His eyes flickered up and down Odin’s form. “Stay close to me, alright?”

That, Odin could do. Even if it made avoiding Niles for the rest of the day just a bit harder.

 

 

 

Later, when a spear not unlike the one he had named earlier slid between his ribs and sent him to his knees, Odin realized he hadn’t done a very good job of sticking close to Leo after all.

But even so—despite the panic in Leo’s eyes and the way Niles gritted his teeth with anger and resignation—Odin was the only one hurt. Leo and Niles were okay. So it was worth it.

 _“No,”_ Leo gasped as the Vallite soldier was blown away with a blast of his magic. He hopped off his horse and grabbed Odin before he could collapse entirely. “Odin, I told you—"

Odin fell to his knees, only slightly gentler than he would have if Leo hadn’t been helping him down. The hand Leo pressed to his chest came away red.

Leo’s face was pale. “Odin, _please_.”

Like Odin had only say in the matter.

He regretted causing Leo so much pain, for letting him down and forcing him to see Odin in his final moments. Odin wanted to say _I’m sorry_ , but a wretched gasp of air was all that came out instead. It was possible one of his lungs had collapsed.

Niles swam into view a split second later, just as Odin’s vision was going dark. His face was just as withdrawn as it had been that morning, but after firing off another arrow to make sure they were safe, he knelt down on Odin’s other side and slid a very gentle hand behind Odin’s head.

“ _Damn it,”_ Niles said angrily. More subdued, he said, “I should have…” He shook his head. “I did this all wrong.”

“Niles,” Leo said.

Odin opened his mouth to reply and choked on another mouthful of blood.

The air pulsed blue. The battle around them crawled to a sudden stop.

 _“No!”_ cried a voice that was both familiar yet distant. _“Not again! I won’t let you!”_

The battle was at a standstill, but the dragon Anankos thrashed. He _roared_.

Another roar accompanied it. _Challenged_ it. It was a nearly identical cry, but there was a different kind of emotion behind it. It sounded like mourning.

“Again,” Leo sighed, sounding defeated, as Niles wetly growled, “Damn it, Odin, tell us what you _did_.”

Odin couldn’t breathe. The air pulsed again.

The world went dark.

 

 

 

(Odin stepped out of the tent, a nervous energy thrumming through his veins. Inventory was taken care of. He’d named as many of the weapons as he could considering the time limit. No official time had been given as to when the army would roll out, but Odin could feel it in his bones that they would move soon. One way or another, the war would be over today. The fate of two—nay, three—kingdoms would be decided.

Stepping out into the sunlight, Odin spotted a familiar mop of silver hair.

“Niles!” Odin said warmly, raising his hand in greeting. “How goes the tasks our liege lord has laid before us this fine morning?”

Niles looked at him for a long time, not saying anything.

“Hello?” Odin cocked his head. “Are some dark forces clouding your mind, my friend? Something you want to share with dear, old Odin?”

He was teasing, but he also meant it. Niles’s worries about the long day ahead of them were probably similar to his own, but that didn’t mean Odin wouldn’t want to hear them anyway.

“Niles?”

Niles shook his head as if to clear it.

“Good morning,” he said finally. “How are you feeling?”

There was something guarded about his expression. Odin let Niles harden himself. Niles often protected himself that way, keeping the world at bay with his masks. It was how Niles prepared for the hard day ahead of them, and Odin wouldn’t wrench that protection away without reason.

“Great!” Odin said. “I feel as though I could conquer an army singlehandedly today! Odin Dark is in peak performance!”

“Is that so?” Niles mused, sounding like he was only half listening. That said, he was looking at Odin with a sharp eye. “Does that mean you’ll be behaving extra foolishly today?”

Something about his voice actually gave Odin pause before he answered.

“Not a chance,” he said. “Besides, I can’t leave you and Lord Leo to fend for yourselves. What would you do without me watching over you on the battlefield, even for a moment?”

Niles hummed. “What, indeed.”

Something weighty lingered in those words. Odin waited for more, curious.

“Come on,” Niles said suddenly, turning away. “Lord Leo asked me to fetch you.”

Odin sprang into action, weaving between the tents. “Why didn’t you say that first? Let’s not waste time then!”

“Calm down,” Niles chided lightly. He was only a few steps behind, but he snagged Odin by the wrist anyway. “Quit running off by yourself.”

“Huh?” Odin blinked. He didn’t think he was rushing _that_ far ahead. But—“My apologies. But let’s go!”

Leo might have needed them for something important, after all. No doubt he was even more stressed than they were.

Niles grunted and fell into step beside him. Odin pretended not to feel Niles’s gaze on him the whole way to Leo’s tent.

It was probably all nerves anyway.)

 

* * *

 

 

“Good morning, Lady Camilla,” Selena greeted as she entered Camilla’s tent with a tray of breakfast in hand. She’d announced herself first, of course. She wasn’t an animal. Or Laslow. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Camilla wasn’t looking at Selena when she entered. In fact, Camilla was almost turned away from her entirely, eyes focused somewhere along the tent wall.

Almost disinterested, Camilla said, “Thank you. That will be all for today.”

“Understood,” Selena said dutifully. Camilla didn’t wave her hand or say where she wanted Selena to place her breakfast, so Selena laid the tray near Camilla’s bedroll.

Then Camilla’s words caught up to hear ears.

“Wait, _what_?” Selena said, too sharply. Camilla did not look at her warningly like she usually did when Selena acted out of her role, but she corrected herself anyway. “I meant—you mean I should come back later?”

“No,” Camilla said.

She still wasn’t looking at Selena. She wasn’t really _doing_ anything. She was just sitting there, looking relaxed as could be, if a little withdrawn. But she’d never dismissed Selena so readily before. Not before such an important day. Not when Camilla needed her most.

All of Selena’s old anxieties suddenly came back in a rush, fueled by the rising stress of the day and Camilla’s blasé attitude. Selena forced them back down. She _knew_ Camilla needed her.

Camilla probably had a lot on her mind, Selena told herself. _Selena_ hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t. She knew she hadn’t.

Or so she hoped.

When Camilla didn’t offer anything more, Selena awkwardly asked, “So… you’re dismissing Beruka and I for the day because…”

Finally, Camilla sent her a sideways glance.

“I’m not dismissing Beruka,” Camilla said.

_She wasn’t dismissing Beruka._

Selena’s heart leapt into her throat. “Then why—”

“In fact,” Camilla cut in, “I don’t want you even on the battlefield today. You should march with the rest of the troops, but if I see you draw your sword for any reason except that you were unavoidably defending yourself, you will be in a lot of trouble.”

He voice was steel and cut right through the air and Selena’s heart.

It felt as though Selena’s whole world had been flipped on its head. She didn’t understand what Camilla was _saying_. Or why.

Selena gathered up her courage and said, “Lady Camilla, with all due respect, I’m your _retainer_. I’m supposed to be there to protect and serve.”

“That’s right,” Camilla said, and for a moment Selena was foolish enough to think Camilla had suddenly changed her mind. “You’re my retainer. Which means you need to listen to the things I say.”

Selena’s mouth had dropped open at some point and she had yet to close it.

“Lady Camilla—”

“We can discuss this after tomorrow, but if you argue with me now, you will be more than dismissed for the day.”

Selena closed her mouth. All the words she wanted to say had formed a lump in her throat so thick she could choke on it.

After tomorrow.

Tomorrow, when the war was over and win or lose, Selena was expected to sit on the sidelines like a useless lump. Like she hadn’t spent the last five years earning her place her, earning Camilla’s faith in her and earning a home in Nohr. And here Camilla was acting so _blasé_ about it all, like Selena wasn’t even worth the attention. Didn’t she know how badly Selena wanted to be by her side, always?

Wet frustration prickled behind Selena’s eyes.

“I understand, my lady,” Selena said, but she shouldn’t have bothered. Camilla wasn’t looking at her anymore.

Selena turned on her heel and marched out of Camilla’s tent, refusing to speak to anyone until she made it back to her own.

There, she all but collapsed on her bedroll and muffled her screams by shoving her face into her flimsy pillow. Then she punched said pillow over and over until all the energy was sapped out of her. A heaviness had laid itself over her like a blanket. A thick, miserable blanket. Selena laid face down in her bedroll, trying to force herself to breathe evenly and not choke on her tears. It didn’t work.

Outside, other soldiers milled about and found work for themselves. There was a nervous buzz to the air. That same buzz had prickled over Selena’s skin until only a few moments ago. Until the shock and shame had washed over her in Camilla’s tent instead.

But Selena wasn’t a quitter. She had experienced setbacks before.

Camilla had given her an order, and Selena had never disobeyed her before. But this was important. Possibly the most important thing Selena would ever do or be a part of in Nohr. She couldn’t just sit on the sidelines. She couldn’t.

Guilt mixed with the churning shame in her chest, but Selena didn’t let it get the best of her. A plan was already forming in her head.

 

 

 

The battle had grown to a frenzy around her. Selena swiped at a pocket of open air as bodies jostled around her. Her sword hit resistance. She yanked her weapon back and hoped the invisible soldier on the other end had fallen.

It was hard to fight when the enemy was invisible. But that hadn’t stopped Selena yet.

Somewhere in the center of the hall, Anankos was roaring and snarling and doing a lot of heavy breathing. A flash of sudden heat every now and again told Selena the dragon was letting loose a stream of fire. She desperately hoped Camilla wasn’t on the other end of that flame.

Selena hadn’t entered the battle with Camilla and Beruka like normal. No, Selena had made herself scarce, as per Camilla’s orders. She hadn’t seen anybody she recognized in what felt like forever.

Then, when the battle was in full swing, she snuck into the thick of it.

She scanned the crowd for more enemies, clutching her sword tightly.

She could help turn the tide of the battle, even from the outskirts.

Whatever Selena had done or whatever had happened to Camilla to make her doubt Selena so suddenly—Selena would fix it. She’d prove that she was the perfect retainer again. She’d prove that Camilla needed her. That she wasn’t dead weight.

A blur in the corner of her vision caused Selena to swirl, sword raised—

She aborted her swing at the last second when the wyvern in front of her reared back with a cry.

“Beruka!” Selena shouted over the sounds of the battle, steadying herself. “What are you doing?”

Beruka’s wyvern hovered in the air for a moment before touching down. From atop the wyvern’s back, Beruka looked down at Selena with a steely gaze.

“Lady Camilla told you not to be here,” she said flatly.

Selena huffed, pointing her finger accusingly.

“I still have a job!” she said. Assuming Camilla didn’t get seriously mad about this, but those were quitter thoughts. “You aren’t Lady Camilla’s favorite retainer yet!”

As per usual, there was no change in Beruka’s expression, but Selena had known her long enough that she thought Beruka was a little annoyed. Or as close to annoyed as Beruka ever got.

“This is not about favorites,” Beruka said. Here on the outskirts, they were in less danger of being taken by surprise, but Beruka still checked over her shoulder before continuing. “Lady Camilla gave an order.”

“Yeah, well, it was a dumb order.”

Selena would have flushed if she weren’t already red from exertion. She’d never called any of Camilla’s decisions dumb before. Normally she never would have dared. But these were extenuating circumstances.

“Fighting alone is dangerous,” Beruka said. Her wyvern flapped its wings. “You must leave at once or I will inform Lady Camilla that you have disobeyed her.”

“You’re probably going to tell her anyway,” Selena countered. “So I’m staying right here!”

Beruka said nothing, so Selena knew she was right.

She quickly jumped on Beruka’s silence. “Aren’t you supposed to be guarding Lady Camilla right now anyway? You’re the one who’s majorly slacking off right now! You should be protecting her!”

The line of Beruka’s mouth flattened almost imperceptibly. Selena doubted Beruka herself even noticed.

“I am following Lady—”

There was a sound Selena recognized on instinct—the sound of a draw string being pulled back and then the snap of its release. She had no idea how she recognized it over the sounds of clashing metal and dragon roars, but she did.

Selena moved on instinct.

The arrow didn’t hit Selena in the shoulder like she expected.

The arrow caught her in the throat.

And the moment the impact registered in her mind, Selena knew that she was _fucked_.

Beruka was a whirl of movement in her blurry periphery as Selena stumbled back, clutching at her neck. The more rational part of her brain knew it was useless, but the rest of Selena’s instincts were running on _hurt_ and _pain_ and _breathe_.

Hot blood poured from between Selena’s fingers as she pressed her hands to her neck uselessly. Her vision blurred with tears.

“Why would you do that?” Beruka’s voice registered a dim moment after the assassin swam into Selena’s view.

Selena’s knees hit the ground.

Beruka stood in front of her, not moving. It looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“You are dying,” Beruka said. “It is too late to save you.”

Like Selena didn’t _know_ that already.

Still, that didn’t stop the pain or the fact Selena wanted to cry. It didn’t stop the way her lungs burned or the fact she was drowning in what little blood of hers that wasn’t falling onto the ground.

She’d just wanted to prove herself. She had wanted to know why Camilla had such a sudden change of heart. She hadn’t meant for it to be like this.

But then, she guessed, people never did.

“Why did you do that?” Beruka asked again, slightly louder. Selena couldn’t tell of there was any emotion in there or if Beruka just thought Selena couldn’t hear her. “Why didn’t you dodge?”

She couldn’t say anything. Selena couldn’t explain that she moved on instinct; that wyverns were weak to arrows. That Beruka would have been at a disadvantage the rest of the battle if the arrow had hit her instead. That she’d been so _sure_ the arrow was going to catch her in her shoulder armor instead of anywhere vital.

She couldn’t say anything. It didn’t matter anymore anyway.

Selena collapsed entirely, her energy waning. Her head swam. The pain ebbed. She didn’t know if Beruka was still watching. It was hard to form thoughts. The front of her chest felt hot. She was choking.

 _“Not this one!”_ a voice cried out suddenly. It was the kind of voice that quivered within Selena’s bones. _“You can’t have this one!”_

Her senses were fading fast, but Severa still felt the pulse in the air like a crashing wave.

She shook.

_“I have failed so many. Not you too.”_

The world went black.

 

 

 

(“Good morning, Lady Camilla,” Selena greeted as she entered Camilla’s tent with a tray of breakfast in hand. She’d announced herself first, of course. She wasn’t an animal. Or Laslow. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Selena,” Camilla said in a voice very much missing her usual confidence and ease. “Come here, please.”

Selena blinked and hastily set the breakfast tray aside before dutifully trotting up to Camilla. She stood at the ready.

“Lady Camilla?”

Camilla reached up and yanked Selena down on top of her. Selena went with a tumble and a grunt. She was landed more or less in Camilla’s lap, and though she wore her leather armor and had her sword strapped to her hip, Camilla didn’t seem to notice.

Selena gaped. “Wha—”

Camilla threaded her fingers through Selena’s hair and stroked her cheek.

“Oh, my dear Selena,” she breathed. Selena was so close she could count Camilla’s eyelashes. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Selena blinked several times, but the situation remained the same. She tilted her head to look at Camilla’s face directly, though the princess’s eyes remained closed. “Lady Camilla, are you feeling all right?”

Camilla sighed heavily. When she spoke again, she opened her eyes and looked at Selena directly this time.

“No,” she said softly. “I’m fine. It’s only—I was very rude to you the other day. I thought it was for the best, but—” She let out another little sigh. “Perhaps you don’t remember.”

Selena didn’t. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, and she struggled to reign it in.

“I don’t remember you being rude,” she said. “So obviously it wasn’t that big of a deal. So don’t be upset.”

When Camilla was angry, it was easy to tell. She donned frustration and bloodlust like a well-worn cloak. She could sport affection and ease just the same way.

Camilla wasn’t any of those things right now, though. If anything, she looked quite sad. Selena didn’t know what to do with herself other than sink even further into Camilla’s lap. Camilla seemed to like that response, so at least Selena was doing something right, even if she wasn’t sure how.

“Perhaps it was just a dream then,” Camilla said, still sounding so strange. She caressed Selena’s cheek again. “Are you feeling fine, dear?”

“Yes!” Selena squeaked. “I’m—fine.”

Her face felt very hot.

“Would you mind if we stayed like this,” Camilla sighed, “for just a while longer?”

It wasn’t an order, but there was no part of Selena that even considered refusing.

“Of course not, Lady Camilla,” Selena agreed.

Camilla pressed her cheek to the top of Selena’s head. Selena wasn’t sure if she imagined Camilla’s lips ghosting over her hair or not.

“My dear Selena,” Camilla said, “don’t ever leave me. I don’t ever want you out of my sight again.”

Practically speaking, it was impossible to promise Lady Camilla anything like that.

Still, Selena couldn’t stop herself from immediately agreeing. She angled her face a little closer to Camilla’s collarbone and said, “Don’t worry, Lady Camilla. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

In the future, maybe—

But no. The future wasn’t now. And that wasn’t what Camilla needed to hear in this moment.

Camilla made a humming sound. She didn’t seem to be letting Selena go anytime soon, nor did she seem to have anything else to say. After a few long moments, Selena began to relax further. Part of her brain was of course still worrying over Camilla’s sudden strange mood, but it was hard to ignore that being held by Camilla felt… nice.

If this was what her lady needed, then of course Selena would give it to her.

Not that Selena was complaining.

There was a battle to prepare for and work to be done still, but that could wait. Just for a few minutes longer.)

  

* * *

 

 

After Laslow had announced that it was tea time and nagged Xander into taking a break with much less of a fight than he had expected, Xander broke his contemplative silence to finally say, “I have a question for you, Laslow.”

Laslow straightened, folding his hands behind his back. They were alone in the tent. He smiled at Xander.

“And what might that be, milord?”

Again, Xander was quiet for a moment. Laslow had grown used to the silence over his years serving Xander, but even he had to admit this kind of silence felt a little different than usually.

Eventually Xander said, “If you knew you were going to die at the end of the day, what would you do?” He gave Laslow a serious look.  “How would you feel?”

Laslow felt ice shoot down his spine. He was certain his face looked as startled as he felt. “Milord, you know Peri and I will do anything and everything to make sure you—”

Xander raised his hand, silencing Laslow.

“Not me,” he said, just as gravely as before. “I am asking about _you_ , Laslow.”

“Me?”

Xander nodded. He did not elaborate.

Laslow thought about the question. It wasn’t a question he liked very much.

“I suppose,” he said eventually, “that I wouldn’t want to know at all. Though if I had to, I’d probably try to make the best of it. Tie up all my loose ends and whatnot.”

The words tasted sour on Laslow’s tongue. He looked up from the floor and at Xander once more.

“Is there a particular reason why you are curious, milord?” he asked.

Xander shook his head. “No reason. I am simply thinking about a comment I overheard Camilla make, that’s all.”

Laslow nodded, frowning slightly. Clutching his wrists behind his back to hold his pose, Laslow’s arms felt stiff.

Xander looked tired, he thought. It was no wonder he and Camilla were thinking of such dark topics. It was hard not to with the near future hanging over their heads.

But Xander and Nohr were going to be fine, no matter the outcome of the battle. Laslow would make sure of it.

“You may want to drink your tea before it gets cold, milord,” Laslow suggested. “A little tea has always been good for calming the nerves, I find.”

“I’m alright,” Xander said, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was when he continued, “Why don’t you sit down for a moment, Laslow?”

Xander’s voice was light. Laslow nearly reeled back for a second time in as many minutes.

“Me?” he repeated, looking between Xander and the small tea set he’d laid out between them. The entire setup seemed a little too delicate and out of place for the war brewing beneath their feet. “I appreciate the offer, milord, but there’s still so much to do.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration or an excuse. Everyone was busy. So busy, in fact, that Laslow hadn’t even seen Selena and Odin that day, as much as he wanted to steal a few quiet moments with each of them. There just wasn’t any time.

But Xander was shaking his head.

“If there is time for me to take a break, as you so often insist,” he said, “then there is time for you too, Laslow.”

Laslow hesitated.

“Come.” Xander patted the space next to him. “Sit with me for a moment. You may consider this an order, if you wish, though I would like to speak to you as an equal this afternoon.”

As equals, Xander said. This was gearing up to be a strange afternoon in more ways than one, Laslow thought.

But it was a request framed as an order to ease Laslow’s guilty conscience, and so Laslow sat with a silent apology to his busy comrades, folding himself neatly onto the soft floor pad next to Xander.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Laslow was struck with a faint feeling of déjà vu.

He shook off that feeling when Xander eventually began.

“Laslow—”

Xander stopped himself, thinking. Laslow opened his own mouth and then thought better about speaking. He had never seen Xander this flustered. At least, not since he’d first heard the news of Corrin’s “rejection” of both Nohr and Hoshido. Something heavy must have truly been weighing on Xander’s mind.

“I have something to ask you,” Xander said.

Laslow straightened. So there was something more than idle chatter that Xander wanted after all.

“Ask away, milord,” Laslow said with a smile meant to soothe any of Xander’s fraying nerves. Internally, however, Laslow’s own stomach was slowly beginning to bubble with nerves.

Xander dipped his head in Laslow’s direction. “You—”

He stopped himself again. Laslow found himself fidgeting in his seat.

“Whatever it is, I promise not to react _too_ badly,” he said, his nerves boldly overtaking his manners for a moment. His smile widened to make up for it and to mask his anxiousness. “Whatever is on your mind, milord, I’m sure it can’t be too bad.”

When Xander took a beat too long to answer, Laslow joked, “It’s not as if you’re ordering me to my death, are you?”

Xander reacted as though he’d been struck. His head jerked back, eyes widening, and Laslow was leaning forward, hands raised in alarm as though to catch Xander before he even knew what he was doing.

“Milord!” Laslow gaped. “You’re not seriously—”

“No,” Xander said quickly, reining in Laslow’s wild thoughts before they had a chance to roam too freely. “No, nothing like that. You simply reminded me of something that was said earlier. It surprised me. I’m afraid I’m rather exhausted as of late as well. My apologies.”

“Ah,” Laslow said, still slightly on edge. “Camilla again?”

“Leo,” Xander corrected.

“Ah.”

They both settled back into their seats. This close, Laslow had the chance to really inspect Xander.

“Milord, perhaps you should consider an afternoon nap as well,” he suggested, trying and falling just short of light.

It wasn’t a light observation, however. Xander truly did not look his best. His skin was paler than it should have been, and the dark rings around Xander’s eyes were visible when you knew how to look for them as Laslow did. Xander held himself with all the dignity and grace required of a crown prince, but even he was human. Laslow could see that now more than ever.

Xander’s disagreement didn’t come as a surprise.

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” he said. “There is too much to be done still.”

Didn’t Laslow know it. Still, he pressed on. “Even so—”

“I had a question for you,” Xander said again.

That was the end of that line of conversation. A little disappointed and still nervous, Laslow nodded and readied himself.

Xander looked at him steadily.

“Tomorrow,” he announced.

Laslow turned the word over in his mind as though the real question were a riddle hidden within.

“Tomorrow?” he echoed.

“I will ask you tomorrow,” Xander said. He pressed his lips into a flat line. “Now is—a bad time, I’m afraid.”

Xander looked deathly serious, but Laslow found himself laughing anyway, likely through a combination of relief and nerves.

“Really?” he laughed. “All that buildup and you decided you’ll ask me tomorrow?”

Perhaps he was being too casual, but Xander had gotten used to that over the years. He nodded, heedless of Laslow’s dying laughter.

“I apologize,” he said again. “It suddenly occurred to me that now was not the best time.”

Laslow laughed again. “Wow, you sure know how to wind a guy up.”

Xander gave him a strange look. Laslow figured he’d crossed a line somehow and mentally chided himself to reign it in.

“I mean, that’s fine,” he quickly corrected. “You know best, milord. Though it’s not something I should be worried about, is it?”

Xander’s reply sounded so casual that his hesitance must have been Laslow’s imagination.

“No,” Xander said. “Nothing of the sort. Just a passing curiosity.”

“I see.” Laslow gestured towards the cooling tea pot. “If that’s the case, might I suggest I serve you your tea now? It’s always better hot.”

Xander’s stiff expression melted into something gentler. Laslow felt as though he’d been given a gift.

“Of course,” Xander said. “So long as you agree to share this tea as well. I couldn’t possibly drink it all myself.”

Just because he couldn’t drink it all himself didn’t mean he had to share, but that was simply Xander’s kindness showing through again. As rigid and stern as Xander could be, there was no doubt in Laslow’s heart that his lord was full of kindness as well.

It suddenly occurred to Laslow that this was might be the beginning of the end of his time in Nohr—of his time with Xander—and he felt distinctly grateful to be sharing this moment with Xander, however strange it was.

“Thank you, Lord Xander,” Laslow said softly. “It would be my pleasure.”

Laslow felt Xander’s eyes on him as he poured the tea, though he pretended not to notice. He wondered if Xander was thinking of thee same things Laslow was.

That sat in relative silence and drank, only commenting on this or that every now and again. By the time the tea was finished, Laslow felt rather refreshed. He thought Xander looked a little better as well.

When Laslow moved to pick up the tray and take it away, break presumably over, Xander grabbed his wrist. Laslow paused, looking at Xander and waiting for more. The weight of Xander’s fingers around his wrist was warm.

But there was no more. Whatever Xander had wanted to say, he seemingly thought better of it once again. Laslow smiled gently at him and nodded in silent understanding. Xander’s expression was unreadable, but he let Laslow go anyway.

Laslow flitted between his chores and Xander’s side all day long, wondering if and when Xander was finally going to say the words he was clearly holding back. It was strange and so unlike the Xander he knew, but whatever words were on the tip of his tongue, Xander held them back. Laslow was not a mind reader, but he stood by Xander’s side and supported him as best he could anyway.

  

 

 

 

It was not any one wound that did Laslow in that day. There was no one well-timed jab, no quick slice of the sword that cut through his defenses. It was a hundred little things that did it—a cut along his thigh, the stinging pain of a broken rib in his chest.  It was the blow to the head that did not bleed but left him seeing stars for much too long. It was the snap of his wrist as he blocked a blow from an enemy that was both invisible and clearly larger than him.

It was a dozen smaller injuries that piled on top of one another as the battle dragged on and on and on, and eventually Laslow could withstand their weight no longer.

He fell.

The battle raged on around him, and Laslow laid on the cold stone floor, breathing ragged and blood sluggishly dripping from somewhere unknown.

Somehow, despite the chaos and the dragon and the dozens of more important things happening all at once, Xander found him.

“Laslow!”

Strong arms were turning Laslow over before he even fully registered who such strength belonged to. He cried out weakly as Xander sat him up, some internal injury sending waves of sharp pain throughout Laslow’s wrecked body. Xander swore lowly.

Somehow Laslow managed to open his eyes and focus his blurring vision. Xander’s face swam into view. His eyes looked large and wild.

Just as Laslow managed to register who he was looking at, Xander’s head snapped up, clearly searching for something as Laslow sat nestled in the crook of his arm.

“Elise!” he shouted across the field. “Sakura! Somebody bring a healer! Quickly!”

Suddenly struck with the lightening bolt of fear that Xander would leave him to search for help, Laslow summoned the last of his strength to stop him. He weakly grasped on to a piece of Xander’s armor, not truly strong enough to keep his lord from leaving. Somehow Xander must have felt him anyway because he stopped looking for a healer and focused back on Laslow, leaning over him protectively. Laslow was flattered and saddened all at once.

“Milord,” he gasped. “Tomorrow…”

“What?” Xander said, eyes frantically scanning Laslow’s face. They did not flicker away.

“Tomorrow,” Laslow repeated. “What—” His breath hitched. “What were you going to ask me?”

“Tomorrow,” Xander muttered after a beat. He dipped his head low, his hair briefly shielding his eyes.

Laslow could feel himself fading. He was scared and shaking—though the shaking may have been more from the cold that had seeped into his bones than the fear—and he didn’t know why he was so focused on the unanswered question between them when Laslow could have said something, anything, else. But he did want to know, and Xander was quiet so long that Laslow worried he’d never know before he passed.

He wished his mother was here. He wished Xander would speak.

And then Xander did speak, and his words hurt more than any wound Laslow could have possibly sustained.

“Did you not promise me that you would always continue to draw breath?” Xander said quietly. “That you would never make me experience this again?”

He could tell Xander regretted the words the moment he was finished saying them, but words, like life, could not be taken back once they were used. The clock could not be rewound, and Xander did not have the time to apologize.

Laslow forgave him anyway. He wasn’t very happy either.

He tried to say as much, but when Laslow opened his mouth to speak, he suddenly found he couldn’t draw in any breath. He heard a gurgling noise that he dimly registered as coming from his own throat. Darkness seeped into the edges of his vision, Xander’s face blurring once more, and the cold filled Laslow’s body like a lead weight. Even the feel of Xander’s warm body against his own grew distant.

He heard a roar. Two roars, actually.

The first was Xander’s, and Laslow’s heart broke even as it began to stop. The second belonged to something else. Something bigger, older. Something just as anguished.

 _“My child… bargain…”_ he heard, ever so far away. _“…you too…”_

Laslow slipped quietly into the dark.

 

 

 

(“ _’We only have a limited time in this world, after all,’_ ” Xander said to Laslow’s surprise as Laslow finished arranging the afternoon tea. “You said that once.”

“I did,” Laslow agreed, remembering that bittersweet evening well. He straightened, folding his hands behind his back. “Is something on your mind, milord?”

When Xander didn’t answer immediately, he said, a bit nervous, “You know Peri and I would always—”

“I _know_ ,” Xander sighed heavily, as though the words were a great weight on his shoulders.

Laslow’s mouth snapped shut as Xander’s eyes fell closed. It was a moment before Xander looked at him again.

“I know,” Xander said again, less heavily. “It is only… You do not remember this, but two days ago, another Laslow and I, he told me—

“Another Laslow?” he said. He wrinkled his eyebrows in thought. “You mean there’s a someone else with my name at camp?”

Xander stared for a moment. There were dark rings under his eyes. Rings that Laslow had chalked up to overworking before, but now he wondered if there was another reason for them. He hoped a little tea and a break would help Xander feel a little more refreshed.

Then Xander shook his head.

“Never mind,” he said. “Please forget I said anything just now.”

Laslow frowned. “Are you sure?”

Because it has sounded a little important to him. He thought about cracking a joke about lookalikes tarnishing his good name, but Xander didn’t look up to it. Less up to it than usual, that was.

“I know you,” Xander said instead of answering directly. “I know you, Laslow, and I know you have a good reason for not telling me the things I know now. And I forgive you, because there are things I am also choosing not to tell you now, by your own request.”

“I—what?”

Now the conversation was going over Laslow’s head entirely. Xander was being deliberately vague about something important. Something definitely important.

Xander closed his eyes again, and when he opened them, he looked at Laslow with a new intensity. A look, Laslow dared thought, that seemed a little sad and worn. He opened his mouth to speak again but wasn’t sure what to say.

“My apologies,” Xander said. “I’m not thinking entirely clearly today. I must be more stressed than I thought.”

Still frowning and unsure, Laslow said, “That’s alright, milord. There’s a lot going on right now.”

“There is.” Xander gestured to the tea set Laslow had just laid out. “I can explain more tomorrow, if you wish. For now, would you do me the honor of having tea with me?”

Laslow did love tea. Still, he hesitated.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “There is still so much to be done, and Peri—”

“If you must insist I take regular breaks even on a day such as this, then I will insist the same of you,” Xander said. “Please. It is not an order but a request. One that would please me very much.”

Laslow’s hesitance melted away. He sat beside Xander.

“Of course,” he said. “How can I say no to a cup of tea?”

Xander’s smile looked a bit strained. Laslow poured them both a cup and hoped it would help.)

**Author's Note:**

> If only any of them had the chance to grieve. But it's hard to grieve someone you haven't really lost yet, huh? Someone who maybe, possibly, if you try really hard, you can still save. If only you can fight the right way to do it.
> 
>  **Odin:** I wanted to hint a little bit more at Niles/Odin/Leo and not just Niles/Odin here, but couldn't find a space to fit it in. But Niles deserves some attention too, so I don't mind that Odin was more explicit about his crush on Niles alone. If you find some Leo/Odin hints too, those aren't accidental though.
> 
>  **Selena:** Camilla thought telling Selena to stay back was the best way to protect her after literally trying to protect her throughout the battle didn't work out, but that's the last thing Selena wants to hear, obviously. I feel probably the worst for Selena here. Out of this timeloop, at least. Everyone is just trying their best.
> 
>  **Laslow:** I wanted to hint a little more that maybe there was another Laslow (yesterday's Laslow for Xander) that told Xander a lot more than we the reader get to see. Probably everything about how Laslow came to Nohr in the first place. About Human Anankos. More than our Laslow is aware of ever telling Xander, at least. It was hard to imply that without telling our Laslow everything, though. And our Laslow did say he'd rather not know if he was going to die, after all. Who is Xander to make that call when our Laslow explicitly asked not to know? He'll do what he can while keeping Laslow in the dark. He can't protect Laslow physically. The least he can do is this one little thing.
> 
> So was that the question Xander really wanted to ask in the end? "Did you promise you'd always continue to draw breath?" I think that's up to you to decide. I think maybe not though. (Obviously that quote and the "time is limited" quote come from Xander and Laslow's A-Support.)
> 
> (I wanted a much more frazzled Xander here. Something more Birthright ending-esque. I don't dislike sad, burdened Xander here though.)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hit me up on my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/) I get a lot of FE14 meta and fic related asks there, so feel free to browse through my "asks" or "fe14" tag for some extra stuff from me and your fellow readers that you may not see over here. Or send in a question of your own if you had one! Thanks for reading!


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